Read Online Once Upon a Wine by Beth Kendrick - Free Book Online Page B

corn.
    â€œAren’t there the same number of rows as there were yesterday and the day before?” she asked.
    He squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Isn’t it great? Everything else changes every day. But the number of rows stays the same.”
    She had no idea what he was talking about, but she loved hearing him say it. After two hours of counting the rows, she was totally sunburned and halfway in love.
    He called her the next morning. They got together the next day, and every day after that. They would meet in the cornfields in the late afternoon and walk the field, counting rows.
    â€œDid you try the corn?” Ian asked when he leaned in to kiss her hello.
    â€œYes,” Cammie said.
    â€œAnd?” he prompted.
    â€œAnd you were right—it was better than any corn I’ve ever had before.” Also truthful.
    Something in her voice made him laugh. “But?”
    Cammie hung her head. “But I still don’t like corn.”
    She spent the summer in a constant state of distraction and desire.While her aunt whiled away the days learning to knit and Kat accumulated an ever-growing collection of scabs and bruises, Cammie thought about Ian.
    â€œWhat else do you do all day?” she once asked him as they paced the perimeter of the fields. “Besides count the rows?”
    â€œLots.” He kind of shrugged. “But most of it’s done before noon.”
    â€œLike what?” she pressed.
    â€œYou really want to know?”
    â€œI really do.”
    â€œPlants don’t sleep,” he told her. “They grow all night, so you want to check on them first thing, before it gets hot. Bugs get up early. If you get out there early, too, you can head off some of the damage.”
    She rested her hand on his back as they walked.
    â€œThe first thing I do when I get up is check the weather.” He grinned sheepishly. “That’s a farmer thing—we’re obsessed with the weather. We can’t change it or control it, but we have to know about it. All the time.”
    â€œSo you’ll know what’s coming?”
    â€œWe’re never sure what’s coming. I took a course in meteorology in college, and what I learned is that no one really understands how all the different systems work together. The forecast is just a guess. But we all have our favorite weather websites.” He paused. “And we all buy the
Farmers’ Alamanac
, every year.”
    â€œThe
Farmers’ Almanac
?” Cammie was incredulous. “Is that thing accurate?”
    â€œNo.” Ian lowered his voice. “Except it
might be
. You never know.”
    â€œYou never know,” Cammie echoed.
    â€œWhat about you?” he asked. “What were you studying while I was reading up on barometric pressure in college?”
    â€œHospitality management. That’s what I’m going to grad school for. There’s a great program in California. It’s really hard to getinto; I was shocked when I got accepted.” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. “My plan is to open a restaurant.”
    â€œOh.” His voice was flat.
    â€œWhat?” she prompted.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œWhat?” Cammie demanded.
    He led her into the shade offered by a row of cornstalks. “Don’t a lot of restaurants go out of business pretty early on?”
    â€œWell, yeah.”
    â€œLike ninety percent?”
    Cammie flipped her hair back. “I don’t know the exact percentage, but that’s why I’m going to grad school. To learn how not to go out of business.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWhat are you saying?”
    He held up his hands. “I’m not saying anything.”
    â€œYou’re saying my restaurant’s going to go out of business,” she accused.
    He started walking again. “Ninety percent is pretty bad odds.”
    â€œWell, odds don’t apply to me,” she informed his back.